


but i'd know the truth

by natashasbanner



Category: Charmed (TV 2018)
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, Missing Scene, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-13
Updated: 2020-05-13
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:28:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24169618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/natashasbanner/pseuds/natashasbanner
Summary: Harry loved everything about Macy and despite trying to tamp down his feelings he couldn't help them from overwhelming him, even in his dreams.
Relationships: Harry Greenwood/Macy Vaughn
Comments: 4
Kudos: 28





	but i'd know the truth

**Author's Note:**

> I don't remember when I wrote this, but I'm pretty sure I hadn't finished season two yet. I do know that I wanted to get into Harry’s head and this is was the result. The title comes from the song Perfect For Me from the new Trolls movie, which was the inspiration for this fic. I'm sorry, please enjoy...

Macy’s door was ajar as Harry made his way down the hallway. He hesitated, momentarily considering just moving on to the attic without a word, but couldn’t help himself. He raised his hand and knocked. 

It was quiet on the other side of the door for a long time and Harry turned to continue on to the attic before Macy’s quiet voice called out, “Come in.” 

She sat in the middle of her bed, legs crossed with a small notebook open in her lap. She was clutching her robe tightly over her chest as he stepped into the room and looked up at him with distant eyes. 

“I was just heading up to bed,” he said, the corner of his mouth quirking slightly. “Your light was on so I thought I’d check on you.” 

“I’m alright,” she said, the ghost of a smile crossing her face for an instant before it disappeared again. 

He tilted his head and watched her for a moment. Her shoulders were hunched forward, like she was closing in on herself, but she seemed relaxed all things considered. 

“I’m just upstairs, if you need anything,” he said, already backing toward the door. 

She nodded and smiled softly before her lips twisted and fell into the neutral frown she’d worn when he walked in. 

Harry paused in the doorway and glanced over his shoulder one last time and said, “Goodnight, Macy.” 

“Goodnight, Harry,” she said and turned her attention back to the notebook in her lap. 

He left the room and let the door click softly behind him with a long sigh. He shook his head at himself and shuffled up the attic stairs. The door creaked as he pushed it open, the only sound in the otherwise quiet house. He didn’t bother turning on the lights as he tugged his shirt from the waist of his pants. He pulled the shirt over his head as he sank onto the ancient couch with a long sigh. 

This is how he spent his nights now. Alone, in the dark with only his racing thoughts to keep him company. Not that he’d had a busting social life before they’d been forced into hiding, but he missed the normality of their lives in Hilltowne. He’d had his job and duty as a whitelighter to distract him from the dizzying feelings he’d developed for one of his charges. 

He fell back against the threadbare cushions of the couch and pressed his palms into eyes. This new proximity was becoming distracting, but there wasn’t anything he could do to quell his attraction to Macy short of extracting his own feelings from his body. 

Harry wasn’t sure when it had started exactly, when his care for the three sisters had blossomed into romantic feelings for Macy. But they had and it seemed he was doomed to remain helplessly in love with her. 

Not that it was a bad thing, loving Macy, not by any means. She was a beautiful woman, smart and kind and funny. Harry loved to make her laugh, to see her eyes light up and her cheeks dimple and hear her laughter fill the room. If he had to choose, it was one of his favorite sounds to hear. She was absolutely magnificent and anyone would be lucky to be with her. 

She’d read his thoughts, heard what he felt for her, but he knew nothing could ever come of it. He’d given her an out that day in the cemetery, a chance to forget his embarrassing infatuation and move on and she’d taken it. But damn if it didn’t hurt like hell. 

She deserved so much more than anything he could give. For all intents and purposes, he died long ago, existed in service of the Elders. A tool to be used and nothing more. What kind of life could he offer her. He was the last of his kind and his purpose was to protect witches, he couldn’t turn his back on them. Not now. Danger would always follow him where ever he went. They’d offered to help, to lighten the load, but it tore him up inside putting them in danger day in and day out. 

But none of that mattered since Macy didn’t feel the same. Not that he blamed her, any one of those reasons was enough to send anyone in their right mind running for the hills. She’d taken the out and they’d moved on, or at least he tried to. Being Macy’s friend was better that nothing, but he felt like he was losing her and he didn’t know how to make things right. 

“You’ve gotten yourself in to quite the mess, haven’t you,” he muttered to himself and kicked off his shoes. 

This is exactly why witches and whitelighters were never meant to be together. It never worked and more often than not some ended up hurt or worse. 

He needed to forget about his messy feelings and focus on the looming threat at hand. They couldn’t afford any distractions. But dammit if his entire world didn’t brighten when she walked into a room. His heart skipped a beat when she smiled and when they locked eyes he was a goner. 

His train of thought was interrupted by a quiet knock on the door. 

Harry sat up, his brow wrinkled as he said, “come in.” 

He was surprised to see Macy walk into the attic. She stopped after a few steps, her fingers worrying over the knot in her robe and she avoided looking him the eye. 

“Is everything alright?” Harry asked, concern in his tone. 

He watched her brow crinkle momentarily and she bit her bottom lip, deep in thought. The silence stretched on until finally she lifted her head to look him in the eye. 

“I don’t know,” she said, taking a few steps closer to the couch. 

Harry stood from the couch and crossed the room to her, stopping a few feet away to give her space. 

“Is there anything I can do?” 

He wanted to reach out, take her hand or offer some sort of comfort, but he was at a loss. 

A small smile tugged at her lips and her hands stilled. “I think so.” 

He let out a short breath and couldn’t help but smile. “Like I said before, anything you need.” 

“I don’t want to forget anymore,” she said and reached out to him. 

“Wh..what do you mean?” he stuttered out, looking down at where her fingers brushed against the back of his hand. 

“I don’t want to forget about what I heard,” she said softly, wrapping her fingers around his. “In your thoughts.” 

Harry shook his head, unable to process what she was saying. It was almost to good to be true. 

“You don’t have to do this,” he assured her, turning his hand over to squeeze her fingers. 

“I want to,” she said earnestly, moving into his personal space so that there was only a breath between them. “If you’ll let me.” 

Harry nodded and brought his free hand up to cover their joined hands. 

“Okay,” was all he said, all he could manage around the lump on his throat. 

“Okay,” she repeated and pulled him over to the couch.

She sat, their hands still joined and pulled Harry down beside her. Their legs brushed as he sat and she laid her head on his shoulder. 

“If you don’t mind me asking,” he started, running his thumb along the back of her hand. “What brought this on?” 

Macy shrugged, humming softly as she pressed herself closer to him. “I’m tired of overthinking everything.” 

“And you’re sure?” 

She lifted her head to meet his eyes again and shook her head. “I’m not sure about anything anymore. But this feels right.” 

Harry smiled and leaned forward, hesitating when their noses touched, but Macy surged forward and kissed him. His eyes drifted closed as he lost himself in the feeling of her lips moving against his. 

In the back of his mind he registered the sound of heavy boots thumping up the attic stairs, but he ignored it. Instead, he cupped her cheeks and deepened the kiss. 

The thumping got louder, but this time Mel’s voice accompanied the footsteps. 

“Harry?” She sounded too far away to only be on the attic stairs. 

Reluctantly, he ended the kiss and opened his eyes. 

He jolted up from the couch when he saw sunlight streaming through the windows. He looked around the room, lit up by the early morning sun, completely disoriented. His eyes landed on the empty space beside him on the couch, the pillow and blankets he never got the chance to use still folded neatly on the table in front of him. 

“Oh no,” he muttered to himself. 

It was only a dream, a fantasy his exhausted mind had conjured up to torture him. It wasn’t real and that’s all it ever would be. He scrubbed his hands down his face and stood from the couch, his sore muscles protesting the movement, in time greet Mel as she burst into the attic. 

Even as his heart was shattering in his chest, he gave her his full attention because that's what he was meant to do. All he’d ever been meant to do.

**Author's Note:**

> Like I said, I'm sorry. Please don't hate me.


End file.
